


The Trifecta

by intergalactix



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8151154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intergalactix/pseuds/intergalactix
Summary: A collection of artwork and fanfiction featuring Abelas, Inquisitor Sawen Lavellan, and Ellya Abersher'al (a.k.a. Ellya Lavellan as a companion). Made in collaboration with calyah!





	1. Her Heart's Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fic written by me. Beautiful artwork done by my bestie [Calyah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Calyah/pseuds/Calyah)!

* * *

 

The war room is cold and quiet. Evening sunlight pours through the windows as Sawen hunches over the long table in the center of the room, her eyes roving over the map as she has so often done over the last few weeks. Ubiquitous red pins mark the movements of the Inquisition’s troops, all heading in the direction of Wycome. **  
**

She frowns, fear gripping her heart like a vice. She cannot remember ever feeling as powerless as she does now, sitting around and waiting to find out whether or not her family would live or die. She is arguably the most powerful individual in Thedas, at the helm of the most influential organization around, yet she is here and they are there, and no amount of influence could change that.

She never asked for this, never wanted it: the hero worship, the level of responsibility the Inquisition placed upon her, the likening to a prophet whose divine word she did not follow. What good is it all if she cannot be there to protect her clan? Their safety is at risk, and it is simply too much. If only she never left her clan, she thinks, she could have stayed there to protect them, to fight until her last breath, until every last _shemlen_ invader had one of her arrows lodged between their eyes.

Sawen sighs. Had she never left for the Conclave, no one would have been there to stop Corypheus the first time and take the anchor from him. Had she not been there, the entire world would have very likely already been lost.

A hand on her shoulder draws her from her thoughts and reminds her she is not alone. Sawen turns to meet Ellya’s gaze as she covers Ellya’s hand with her own, squeezing gently. Ellya offers her a small, reassuring smile, though there is no hiding the worry she feels on Sawen’s behalf. Nonetheless, Sawen smiles back, albeit weakly. 

Had she never left, she would not have met Ellya.

A loud knock at the door makes them both turn around. Cullen enters the war room with quick, purposeful strides. Sawen feels her entire body go rigid and fears for the worst, but the smile on his face gives her pause.

“Inquisitor? We have received news from Wycome,” he says, and then hands her a rolled piece of paper from within his sleeve.

Sawen snatches the missive from him and opens it, her heart thumping wildly as she reads its contents as fast as she is able. When at last her eyes reach the bottom the page, the air leaves her lungs in a shuddering gasp.

“Is it good news?” Ellya asks, an edge of anticipation in her voice.

Sawen looks to her, still in shock, and her eyes begin to water.

“Yes,” she breathes out. “They made it. By the ancestors, they made it.”

Ellya sighs loudly with relief, the tension visibly leaving her body. Without another word, she reaches for Sawen and hugs her tightly, and Sawen returns the gesture, sinking into the warmth of her embrace as she blinks back the tears.

“Thank the Creators,” Ellya says.

Sawen merely nods in agreement, overwhelmed with the desire to run to Wycome to see her clan herself, but no less relieved simply knowing that they survived. When Ellya releases her, Sawen directs her attention back to Cullen and swallows, searching her brain for something to say. It was he who advised her to send their troops to Wycome to defend the clan and the city’s elves. Though she and the commander have had their differences in the past, she would forever be grateful to him for this. 

“Thank you,” she finally says. “Cullen, I… I do not have the words.”

He laughs. “Well, that’s a first.”

Sawen manages a short laugh at her expense before she holds out her arm for him to take. Cullen leans forward and clasps her forearm, and she his in return. His grip is firm and grounding, a reminder that this is real.

“Thank you,” she says again. 

“You are welcome, Sawen,” he replies sincerely as they part. His gaze briefly flicks to the woman standing behind her before he continues: “I will leave you now. I have yet to inform the others of our success.”

With a nod of farewell to Ellya, Cullen turns and departs from the war room. Silence befalls the room once more, and Sawen can hear her own breathing, still heavy as she inhales and exhales in time with her rapidly beating heart. 

“Are you all right?” Ellya asks.

Sawen turns to face her, and her eyes move up and down her form as she takes her in. She is leaning back against the war table now, her hands braced on the edge, watching Sawen with kind eyes. Sawen’s mind races as impulse drives her footsteps forward, until she stands just a breath away from Ellya. She grins, suddenly overcome with joy.

She lifts her hand and gently traces the front of Ellya’s rust-colored robes, admiring the way they feel against her skin. Nevarran cotton, she notes, spun by the skilled hands of those belonging to Clan Abersher’al. It reminds Sawen of just how much she and Ellya share, forced so far from their homes and families, only to find home within each other. Sawen nearly lost all of that, all she knows and loves so deeply. To think that in an instant it could have vanished like a plume smoke passing through her fingers shakes her to her core.

She cannot let love slip from her fingers again, not while it is within her reach.

All at once the world narrows in on itself, and there is only Ellya. Ellya, her dear friend and confidant. The one she has come to trust more than anyone she ever had before. The one who has helped her become the leader she is today. The woman she loves more than the moons in the sky love the stars.

“Ellya,” she says softly, her voice quivering with emotion. “ _Ma vhenan’syla_.”

Sawen clenches the fabric of Ellya’s robes into her fists and draws her in for a kiss—a kiss of hope, of desire, of feelings hard to quantify with words alone. Ellya eagerly reciprocates, her lips parting and inviting Sawen in. Her hands curl around Sawen’s arms in order to pull her even closer, until she is learning further back against the war table with Sawen standing between her legs. 

The warmth of Ellya’s mouth sends a current through Sawen’s body, the softness of her lips against hers making her heart race for entirely new reasons. She pours every ounce of herself into the kiss and hopes that it is enough. Tomorrow, perhaps, she would be able to express herself adequately, but for now, through her actions she knows that Ellya understands.

* * *

Elvhen translations:

 _shemlen -_ human, literally “quick children”

 _Ma vhenan’syla_ \- My heart’s flame. This is an endearment Sawen has for Ellya that Calyah and I came up with together, something directly inspired by Ellya as a character.  <3 Please don’t use it in your own work without our permission!


	2. Homesick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fic written by me. Beautiful artwork done by my bestie [Calyah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Calyah/pseuds/Calyah)!

* * *

 

From the parapets surrounding Skyhold, Ellya is reminded of just how far away from home she is.

The wind coming in from the mountains feels harsh against her face, threatening to numb her cheeks, but the noon sun prevails and warms her skin instead. Nonetheless, she draws the shawl wrapped around her neck and shoulders closer to her face, and as she looks out at the snow-capped peaks of the Frostbacks, Ellya longs for the endless, rolling dunes of the Silent Plains.

Skyhold, she has come to realize, is a place of duality, of contradiction. Magic comprises the castle’s very essence, yet there are times Ellya feels more disconnected from the Fade than ever, so far from Sylaise and the heat of her magics. There are also times when she wonders how one can be among the company of so many others yet feel so alone, lost in a sea of unrecognizable faces. Even now, standing at the top of the secure, sturdy walls that protect the fortress, she finds herself plagued with uncertainty and fear of the impending danger they face.

It isn’t as though life in the desert had been any easier. Clan Abersher'al fought hard and dilligently to ensure its survival. Perhaps nostalgia permeated her memories, casting a shroud over the hardships she faced back then. Yet logic and reason still could stop Ellya’s heart from aching, yearning for the comfort and familiarity of home.

“Copper for your thoughts?”

A pair of arms circle her waist; lips at her ear send a pleasant shiver down her spine. Ellya turns her face to look over shoulder, a faint smile touching her lips when she sees Sawen standing behind her.

“I’m just admiring the view,” Ellya says.

“Mm.” Sawen lowers her chin to Ellya’s shoulder, her eyes fixed on her. “So am I.”

Ellya’s skin warms again, only this time it isn’t the sun’s doing. She turns her gaze back to the mountains in order to hide her blush, and Sawen laughs as she lifts her head and presses a fleeting kiss to Ellya’s cheek.

“It is quite lovely up here, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Yes,” Ellya agrees with only half sincerity. “It is.”

A brief silence passes between them, until Sawen says, “Not as lovely as the desert, though?”

Ellya’s shoulders slump, and she turns around in Sawen arms in order to face her. Sawen takes a small step back, allowing her enough room to move. Ellya meets Sawen’s gaze deliberately, searching her eyes as she also searches for what to say. She can tell that, despite her teasing, Sawen is concerned for her. She would not have come all this way to find her otherwise.

Another small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Forgoing words, Ellya takes Sawen’s chin between her thumb and forefinger and guides her lips to hers, kissing her sweetly, fondly.

“Perceptive as ever,” she says.

Sawen smirks at her obvious deflection. “Hardly. It’s written all over your face.”

Ellya’s smile begins to fade. She sighs again, casting a sidelong glance back at the mountains.

“You are homesick,” Sawen states, her voice gentle.

Ellya nods slowly, no longer able nor wanting to hide what she feels.

“It’s just so… different here,” she says after moment of consideration, and then looks at Sawen again. “Every morning I wake up and look out our window expecting to see something else entirely.”

“It’s the snow,” Sawen says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much snow in a single place.”

“Yes,” Ellya agrees. “And it makes the sun here far too bright.”

“Indeed.”

“And it’s windy,” Ellya continues. “I thought the desert winds were intense, but here? Here, they are unforgiving.”

“And loud,” Sawen says. “Don’t forget loud.”

“And dreadfully cold as well,” Ellya adds, and she scowls as she is reminded of just how cold it could be in Skyhold, especially at night.

At that, Sawen starts to move her hands up and down Ellya’s arms, generating heat through the friction. Soothed, Ellya relaxes into her touch and lowers her head to Sawen’s shoulder, a soft, contented sigh passing through her lips. Sawen gently kisses her forehead, one hand carefully passing through the strands of Ellya’s long, red hair.

“I think I miss seeing trees most of all,” Sawen says. “As a child, I loved to play in the forests around our settlements with my brother and sister and all our cousins.”

Ellya looks up at her. There is a faraway look in Sawen’s eyes as she reminisces about her home. Ellya imagines she had looked much the same when Sawen found her, and strangely enough she finds the idea to be comforting. There is strength in empathy, she thinks, in sharing one’s burdens with another.

“It sounds beautiful,” Ellya says. “I’ve never been to that part of the Free Marches before.”

“I’ll take you there someday,” Sawen says. “Right after we visit your home in Nevarra.”

Something tender blossoms in Ellya’s chest then—relief, joy, _warmth_ —and she smiles. Lifting her head from Sawen’s shoulder, she wraps her arms around her instead, holding her close.

“I would love that,” she says gratefully.

Sawen’s gaze softens. “As would I… And I’m here for you, Ellya. Whenever you need something, or someone. You need only ask.”

Nodding, Ellya whispers, “I know.”

“No matter how far we are from home,” Sawen continues, “we have one here in each other.”

Their next kiss is longer than their first. Ellya’s grip grows stronger and tighter with each passing moment as she leans further into Sawen embrace, her arms a sturdy comfort that surround her and make her feel whole. They release one another only once their lips part, after they nearly run out of breath.

“You know,” Sawen begins in a tone that Ellya knows all too well, “I can think of something much more entertaining we can do other than standing around looking at snow.”

Amused, Ellya raises one eyebrow. “Oh?”

Sawen waggles her eyebrows in return, earning a genuine laugh from Ellya.

“You are incorrigible,” Ellya teases.

“So I’ve been told. By you, actually. _Many_ times.”

“Then it doesn’t hurt to remind you again, I suppose.”

“Really? Well, in that case,” Sawen says, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip, “I’d like my copper piece back now, please.”

Ellya regards her with a look of confusion, recalling Sawen’s earlier use of the expression… before she frowns in realization a moment later.

Sawen, in the meantime, procures a copper coin from the inside of her sleeve, holding it between her index and middle fingers right in front of Ellya’s face.

“Never mind!” she chirps. “Yours will do.”

“ _Sawen_.”

“What?” Sawen asks, feigning innocence. “How many times do I have to tell you not to leave coin in your pockets like that?”

“When did you even—” Ellya stops herself and shakes her head. “Give that back.”

Sawen grins. “As my lady wishes.”

“You’re supposed to use your own money, you know, if the saying is to apply,” Ellya informs her as she holds out her hand, palm facing up.

“This is me you’re talking to, _vhenan’syla_. When have I ever been known to use my own money for anything?”

Playfully, Ellya snatches the copper coin away from her and, with a smirk smug enough to rival one of Sawen’s, drops it down the front of her robes. Sawen’s eyes follow her movements closely, her brows raised and cheeks dimpling in amusement.

“Clever,” she remarks.

Ellya lifts her chin proudly. “I thought so.”

“I’m impressed,” Sawen says. “You know that I can still steal it back from there, though.”

“Perhaps you can,” Ellya replies. “At the very least, I expect that you will try.”

Ellya turns and begins to walk away, a lightness in her step that had not been there before. She stops only once to look over her shoulder expectantly before continuing to the stairs behind them.

Laughing, Sawen grins and gives chase, hurrying down the steps after her.

* * *

**Elvhen translations** :

 _vhenan’syla_ : heart’s flame. This is an endearment Sawen has for Ellya that Calyah and I came up with together, something directly inspired by Ellya as a character. <3 Please don’t use it in your own work without our permission!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fic written by me. Beautiful artwork done by my bestie [Calyah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Calyah/pseuds/Calyah)!

* * *

The gentle scrape of blunted nails against her skin wakes Ellya from her slumber.

Her eyes flutter open, and she is met with the first signs of morning. Beams of sunlight stream through the bedroom window and bathe the coverlet in a wash of bright light. The sound of mourning doves just outside reaches her ears, along with the faint murmurs of voices coming from the courtyard below.

Ellya squints as her eyes adjust to the brightness, turning her head to the left to avoid direct contact. Sawen is nestled there at her side, already awake, eyes open but staring off into the distance. She continues idly stroking the arm Ellya has wrapped around her shoulders, fingertips slowly dragging up and down the length of her forearm, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

“Good morning,” Ellya says softly, regarding her with a sleepy smile.

Sawen’s hand stills at Ellya’s elbow at the sound of her voice. She looks up at her and smirks, her cheek dimpling at one corner of her mouth. 

“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Ellya shakes her head. “Don’t be. It feels nice.”

With a nod, Sawen resumes, settling back into a comfortable rhythm. Ellya sighs softly as her skin tingles warmly, relaxed by her touch, and she shifts just a little closer to allow Sawen better reach. She rests her cheek comfortably against the top of Sawen’s dark hair, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender.

“He didn’t strike me as the type to snore.”

Ellya glances to the right. Abelas sleeps flanking her other side, his long arms wrapped around her and Sawen both. His expression is one of pure peace, and there is a lightness there that otherwise seldom appears in the waking world. The faint but unmistakable sound of him snoring brings another smile to her face, and Ellya laughs quietly, careful not to disturb his rest. 

“He would never believe us if we told him so,” she replies.

“Probably not,” Sawen agrees. “Either that, or he’s already well aware of the fact and will simply deny it.”

Ellya grins down at her. Despite her teasing, she can recognize the fondness that’s obvious in Sawen’s eyes as she speaks. It is the same way she sees Sawen look at her, a seemingly neverending pool of adoration behind her gaze. 

She can only imagine how they must look right now, huddled together in a pile like newborn kittens; their legs tangled together underneath the layers of blankets draped over them; Ellya trapped in the heat between their bodies, Abelas and Sawen’s arms embracing her as hers do them; her long hair fanned out against the pillows, forming a crimson halo around all of their heads.

Being able to wake up with the two of them beside her each morning, Ellya cannot help feeling grateful they even have this chance: to be so lost in their own little slice of reality as the world around them stirs, no longer reliant upon them to solve all of its problems. That they have been able to find sanctuary within one another, at long last, is nothing short of a miracle. She recalls the sight of Abelas’s serene, sleeping face, and the tenderness of Sawen’s touch greeting her as she woke...

Sawen’s hand soon stills again, before her arm suddenly falls limp and lands on Abelas. Ellya looks down and sees that she has fallen back asleep, her eyes closed and lips parted slightly as her breathing becomes slow and steady. Abelas remains unperturbed and blissfully unaware.

“Sawen?” she whispers, just in case.

When Sawen doesn’t reply, Ellya chuckles and shakes her head. Gently, she reaches down and traces one finger along her arm, happy to return the favor as Sawen rests. But the sight of both her and Abelas sleeping soundly makes her own eyes feel heavy once more, and as she feels the tendrils of sleep pulling at her consciousness, Ellya knows there is no place else she would rather be. 


End file.
